10. MORPHEUS|DREAM OF THE ENDLESS X READER/OC
The searing heat of the runes lashed at me, heat rippling through the air as we sat side by side, Morpheus in his globe prison and I’m down on the stone floor writing. He was silent as usual, a morose effigy of his past self and I saw the lights dim in his eyes when he was looking at the iron gate locking him away from the outer world. His suffering took a toll on both of us, but I was more than willing to be the crutch for him to lean on. His escape would be planned, I thought, as soon as Burgess’ magic weakens with his age or time weathers it down to unrecognizable signs of the occult.
“Talos?” He barely breathed when speaking due to the scarce amount of oxygen behind the glass. He just uttered the words fighting against the intake of air the best as he could.
“Yes?” I slipped my pen between the pages, focusing on him.
“Are you still with me?” I believe sometimes he was staring at one point for such a long time that his vision got tired or he pushed himself into self-inflicted blindness just to take away one element of his forced environment. Whichever was the case, I never asked. It would have been far too painful to talk about.
“Yes, I am here.” I made the best effort to smile with my words.
“No, nothing.” His chest had to rise for the next sentence, and he did that with painful slowness. “Just making sure. I was afraid you left.”
“I could only hear the rat in the corner.” His jet black hair fell into his face as he turned as if still listening. “And I didn’t want to see.”
He seemed to settle on that for a second, pale skin glistening in the warm flickering lights of the bulbs. It was never dark in the basement. Another reason to get rid of his sight occasionally, one way or another. To feel like he can still dream.
“I wouldn’t want you to go.”
“Dear Morpheus,” I set my papers aside devoting my full attention to him. “I promised you I wouldn’t leave.”
“You do leave sometimes.”
“Only because I have to .” It hurt, but I pushed my hand through the barrier, my fingers spreading over the glass. “See, Morpheus. See.”
His body shook, ribs rattling under his thinly stretched skin and his eyes opened wide taking in the light, the agonisingly familiar sight of the basement. His palm quickly found mine, skin aching for contact.
“I look out for you as I always did.” I continued. “Maybe you don’t always feel it, but this is my intention.”
All the uncertainty he had after Jessamy’s death shone in his eyes, still actively mourning and blaming himself. I wish I had been there, I could have made an effort to stop the events, to alter some words in a piece I wrote that would change everything. A chain of guilt linked our hearts together. He should have never been captured, yet there we were.
“I’ll keep this thought in mind.” He rasped, lungs out of the habit of working. “For when hard times come, it’ll keep me alive.”
“So be it.” I smiled through the tears threatening to fall. “So be it.”
It's hard to tell what went down.
The only certainty is that I know it all happened because of me. I set the events in action that led us here, into this uneasiness. Into the Limbo, to be specific, where I reside at the moment, though against my will. I have done something I would have never done before. I was selfish, I wanted out.
Changing my writing wasn’t anything new. I have done it for Hob Gadling before after all, however, that was only a minor alteration. Resetting the course of the Morningstar was a completely different act in volume and a devastating one. But I couldn’t withstand the pressure pushing me deeper and deeper into the pits, the loneliness gnawing at my flesh. I wanted to see the true sky again, I wanted to see him. But nothing turned out in the way I had expected it. And from a prisoner, I had turned into a prisoner yet again.
Just a few feet from me the daemons are in a heavy discussion. They dare not approach me so bravely, but at the same time, they don’t want to lose their prized possession. The treasure that will buy them what they want. The key to Hell where they were banished from.
Another detail I forgot to include in my calculations. What will happen to the key after Lucifer has no use for it? For it's not something that can be thrown away, discarded, or buried somewhere where no one will find it. I thought there would be a plan set in motion that is there in case Lucifer would perish at the hand of an outer force. Turns out there was none, this wasn’t meant to happen.
So I wait contemplating my impending fate. They took Nada too out of all the tormented souls, so I’m fairly certain whom they want to approach and thus I have the suspicion that the new owner of the key is none other than Morpheus, quite an interesting choice looking at his relationship with the King of Hell.
My hands itch, clawing for my pen in my mind, but I’m afraid I’m not allowed to write here in this shapeless space. So down on the mortal planes everything halts for a while, except what the Moiras can keep running without my help. Nothing new is born while I’m here. I can feel the sluggishness, time scraping against blank paper, tearing into it, leaving an empty hole and the words fall through. It aches, but the collar around my neck still works against me, blocking me from accessing my true power.
I tilt my head as an acknowledgement of my name being called. Azazel’s bodyless black mass swirls next to me and multiple voices hiss into my hears through sharp teeth.
“What do you want daemon?” My eyes are fixed on Nada’s naked body. She is freezing, her lips blue and trembling.
“Prince of Hell if you will, I intend to regain my title.” In tendrils they slither around my limbs, aiming to intimidate but I can smell their underlying fear of me. The stench of sulphur almost makes me gag.
“Take us to the Dream Land.”
I’m about to shake my head when I feel the chain pull and mar at my throat. They shouldn’t even stand the chance of getting that key, but here I am offering the perfect opportunity on a silver plate.
“As if you couldn’t travel yourself.”
“For you, it's easier to get in Writer, you are always welcome among the Endless.”
“That might have changed during my time spent in Hell.” My gaze shifts to Azazel’s. “What with Nada?”
“I will take care of her myself.”
I turn away as Nada’s lifeless body is lifted from the ground. Conjuring all my power I strain against my bounds, imagining my destination as faithfully as I can. The familiar image of lush fields and flowing rivers, the castle with the three gatekeepers and the towers thrusting towards the sky stabs at my heart. I grasp onto it like a lifeline and pull it towards my being as the Limbo shrinks into the distance behind us. It only takes a moment, but I perceive it as a lifetime, the anticipation builds and at the same time I prepare myself for his deserved rage…
Fresh air seeps into my lungs, making me shudder, a flash of joy flaring up in my body. A gust of wind blows past my face carrying the scent of disturbance and anxiety. The Dream Lord is not in a good headspace right now. The responsibility of the key must be heavy on his shoulders.
And now he is oh so close to me.
We walk up to the gate of the castle and a rumbling crowd welcomes us, waiting to gain entrance to the Heart of the Dreaming. They are all gods, deities from the past times, some forgotten, some still respected in hidden corners of the world. And they all want one thing: the key.
Without fail they all recognize me as I go past them with my unlikely entourage who let me walk ahead of them, realising how easily I can cut a path for myself in this sea of otherworldly beings. Our party contains Azazel, Choronzon and Merkin, mother of spiders. I’m unsure where they hid Nada, but I faintly sense her presence with us.
I climb the stairs leading to the massive double-winged door, through which the visitors begin to trickle in as they open. The burning stare of the gatekeepers follows me, they all know who I am.
It's the throne room we directly arrive at, he must have made the corridors leading here, as it is dangerous to get lost in the castle. Everything is like I remembered but repaired, with no cracks on the marble stones, the light filtering through the colourful glass windows like an ever-shifting rainbow.
And there, the sunlight pooling around his sharp forms stands he, regal and breathtaking. Immediately our eyes lock, pupils blown, engulfing each other. I used to be good at reading his feelings, but at this moment it’s impossible. The emotions flash through his features at a rapid speed. Hurt, despair, sadness, anger… All behind that schooled mask of neutrality that at least I can still crack and peel back a little. His lips twitch, between them thousands of unsaid words, and his figure awkwardly shifts. A knife would be able to slice through the silence in the room. Then he tears his gaze away from me, though I can see it takes him a tremendous amount of effort to do so. He has to be a King in front of everyone else, he has to be an Endless.
I take my seat next to Choronzon at the dining table set up in the middle of the hall. There is a peculiar flirtation occurring between him and Merikin that I do not understand, nor do I wish to. Dreamers serve food catered to every being’s needs. Opposite of me the mighty Norse god, Thor, is getting rowdy and entranced by the proximity of Bast, the Egyptian goddess. It's a comfortable distraction, something to watch while I feel his eyes pass over me occasionally until I can’t bear it anymore. I quietly stand up and take my exit. I know that he notices.
Though the layout is slightly changed to accommodate the visitors, the way to the library seems to be the same. I take all the familiar turns until I find myself between the towering shelves, filled with knowledge and stories, both written and unwritten. An uneven pattern of hurried steps follow me, have been as soon as I stepped out to the corridors, but only manages to catch up now.
“My, the feast is the other way around, I’m sorry… Oh.”
It’s Mervyn, he comes to a halt, his pumpkin head dipping to the side in surprise. He is clutching a broom to his chest at a loss of what he could or should say, so I decide to help him out.
“Hello, Mervyn.” My smile is bittersweet, but I try to brighten it up for him a little. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Yes, yes.” He scratches his chest nervously, then asks right away. “Does he know?”
“He saw me.” It’s only a matter of time until Morpheus orders me to his chambers for a private audition, I’m sure. We have to talk. “He is preoccupied with his visitors, understandably so.”
“Are you not one of them?”
The distance between us is rather wast, he is standing in the doorway while I’m quite a few steps in, but he doesn’t make an attempt to approach.
“I hoped I would find her here.”
“A few lines of shelves down.” Helps out Mervyn. “She will be quite shocked to see you.”
“Truth be told, I’m shocked to find myself here.” A sigh escapes my lips. “I thought I would never make it back.”
I bid farewell to the fidgety janitor before he could respond, and a few shelves down I do find Lucienne. She is balancing a stack of heavy tomes, barely being able to see over them. To my voice, she jumps, then freezes, afraid to turn and look. I call her again.
She carefully sets the books down on the floor, next to her feet, remaining in a crouching position and her shoulders shake. I kneel by her side.
“Lucienne, can you look at me?”
Her glasses are foggy as she raises her gaze at me and I’ve never seen her so emotional. I dry up a stray teardrop escaping her eyes with the hem of my robe.
“Dear, dear Lucienne.” I take her hands into mine. “How I missed you.”
“How is this possible?” Usually so composed, now she had fallen apart due to the sudden wave of emotion. “You disappeared. There were barely any explanations.”
“I’ll tell you everything when the time comes, I promise.” Our fingers intertwine as she grounds herself with my touch to calm down. “I’m not completely free yet, there is a danger about saying things.”
“Believe me lovely Lucienne, the Dreaming is the least safe out of the many realms right now.”
She contemplates this for a second, immediately making calculations for possible scenarios that can happen with this many powerful forces cramped into one space, all wanting the same thing.
“You have to go and see him.” She says then.
“I know.” I stand up, facing towards the way I came from as if I could hear him calling to me already. But there is only silence now. “He saw me already, I want to make sure he is ready. He will call me when he is.”
“I’m terrified.” A tremor runs down my spine. “But loving someone is always terrifying.”
